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Against the Dying of the Light

My father died at the Polymedic General Hospital in Manila, in the afternoon of 12 April 2013. As a photojournalist, I had covered tragedy and death up close. At some point I had grown numb and disconnected from the stories. This death made me reassess my approach.

Against the Dying of the Light

19 November 2013

Devotees raise their hands, awaiting a sprinkle of holy water during a healing mass in Quezon, Luzon island.

My father died at the Polymedic General Hospital in Manila, in the afternoon of 12 April 2013. As a photojournalist, I had covered tragedy and death up close. At some point I had grown numb and disconnected from the stories. This death made me reassess my approach. I set out to look more deeply into the lives of people in similar situations. In various centers for the terminally ill, I approached people asking what hope meant to them. People had similar answers. Hope meant survival, overcoming death. But bereft of choice, people clung to whatever gave them ease – physical ease, spiritual comfort, or the lifting of an emotional burden. So hope took the form of a pill of morphine, brushes with faith healers, or with healers who sliced through human flesh to squeeze out infected blood, in plants and herbs found on holy mountains and said to ease pain and refresh the spirit.

Story

Veejay Villafranca was born in Manila, the Philippines.
He started out as a staff photographer for the national news magazine Philippines Graphic, before freelancing in 2006. He also worked with several international news wire agencies before pursuing the personal projects that later paved his career as a full-time documentary photographer. He tackles such issues as changing Filipino cultural and religious practices.